


They Bang

by mellyb6



Series: And Then There Were Four [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aramis has a dirty mouth, M/M, There's a Bathtub, They're Sweaty, they have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyb6/pseuds/mellyb6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos. Aramis. A bathtub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Bang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vera_dAuriac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/gifts).



Aramis is panting when they come back home. Never mind that he's gotten used to their morning run or that the sun and the nice weather for late summer were endearing. It hasn't lessened how out of breath he feels after they're done exercising. Porthos is always pushing him to do more and for his boyfriend, it's a glimpse of how he must behave during his classes at the gym. Aramis cannot understand why people would pay fortunes to be shouted at and forced to reach their breaking point.

 

On the plus side, Porthos does look exhausted as well, chugging down a whole bottle of water. He's too busy catching his breath to talk, and wiping his face with the tee-shirt he just took off.

 

Aramis collapses on the couch, props his legs on the coffee table, stretches his arms above his head. He whines that exercising is _too_ hard and that he doesn't care anymore about putting on weight. It isn't worth the sacrifice.

 

“Nonsense. You love running.” Porthos comes to him, sits on the back of the couch, his hip close to Aramis' head.

 

“I do _not_. But I like having to catch up after you to admire the view.”

 

“So that's why you're always behind.” It comes as a revelation to him and Aramis chuckles. Except that it comes out as a gasp and he chokes on it, struggling to regain an even breathing. “I should have known.”

 

“Well, you have a nice behind. Can you blame me?”

 

Aramis looks up at him, a tinkle in his eyes, his cheek cushioned on Porthos' thigh. He feels the rumble on his skin as his boyfriend laughs. Aramis stares at all the dark and glistening flesh above him.

 

“I'm going to have a shower. Join me if you think you still have enough energy for it.”

 

“I always have energy for you. Give me a minute, though.”

 

The comfort of having Porthos' body close fades as he walks away. Aramis' head falls on the couch with a groan and he closes his eyes. A dirty tee-shirt hits him straight in the face, followed by Porthos' deep laughter. It's smelly and sweaty and Aramis sits up, mildly offended to find his boyfriend winking and grinning before he disappears in the bathroom.

 

The couch is soft and sinks underneath him. It's like sitting on a cloud so it's an ordeal to leave it. Aramis clutches the shirt until the sound of water pouring down more steadily than it would do if it was an actual shower sparks his interest. He finds it in himself to walk the distance.

 

“You said a shower.”

 

“Well, I changed my mind. Is it a problem?” Porthos looks behind his shoulder from his crouched position by the bathtub he's busy filling. The smirk on his faces wakes Aramis further and he strips out of his tee-shirt, too.

 

“It's much better than a shower,” he eventually agrees.

 

“It just takes longer to be ready.” Porthos grunts when he stands back up to face his boyfriend. Aramis' eyes narrow on Porthos' chest, delicious and inviting.

 

“I can think of a few things to pass the time.” He licks his lips and stalks towards Porthos who welcomes him with open arms until they are flushed together. Sweaty skin be damned.

 

Aramis' hands are hot. Trembling in spite of himself on Porthos' hips and the flesh under them shudders as fingers splay gently. Rub slowly.

 

Porthos moans at the mouth licking the side of his neck, tasting salt and dirt but Aramis isn't complaining. Instead, he makes tiny pleased noises while Porthos tilts his head, encourages it by pulling him closer, one arm around the other's waist.

 

The wet mouth trails down, lips and the tip of a tongue grazing Porthos' skin and if he starts panting again, it's not because they've worked out earlier.

 

Naughty fingers find their way into his track pants to clutch his ass. They're greedy and impatient but soft and they make Porthos' skin tingle. His legs buckle a little.

 

Aramis is oblivious to it, entranced that he is to kiss and suck on Porthos' nipples, circling one with his tongue. Over and over and there are fingernails digging in the small of his back, probably hurting but he can't feel the pain.

 

Porthos is pliant under his care, if the lack of talking he does is any indication of how much he loves the attention he is getting. The hard-on growing against Aramis' crotch is also a great clue, if his boyfriend needed any. It encourages Aramis to suck and grind his hips a bit, only to rejoice in gasps and moans.

 

Then there's a louder one from Porthos as Aramis shifts, withdraws one hand from the other's pants and dedicates it to rubbing Porthos' chest, the one nipple he can't worship with his mouth.

 

Porthos has to back up under all of Aramis' ministrations, only to sit precariously on the edge of the bathtub. Aramis eagerly steps between his open legs, kissing him straight on the mouth. He has to bend a little to do so but the awkwardness of his position doesn't alter how he thrusts his tongue past Porthos' parted lips. It licks everywhere, caresses the inside of Porthos' mouth.

 

Porthos rakes his nails up and down Aramis' back. They are heavy on his neck and Aramis melts against him as they bury in his hair. It does things to him, to be touched there and his boyfriend understood it a long time ago.

 

His heart speeds up, his kiss intensifies and he rolls his hips faster, desperate for some friction that he cannot get. His cock is hardening, straining in his pants and he has nothing to rub it against. Porthos is out of reach.

 

Aramis whines in the other's mouth, feels the muscles on his stomach clench because the gentle hand has grasped a handful of curls to tug on them. It's a sweet pain which spreads under Aramis' skin and which makes him gasp out of their kiss.

 

It doesn't make Porthos stop, though, as he kisses Aramis' jaw and lets one wandering hand dip inside Aramis' pants to caress his cock. It twitches in his underwear, hardens at the touch even if Porthos simply does so through thin fabric.

 

“You do have some energy left,” Porthos rasps out, peppers kisses in the hollow of Aramis' collarbone while his boyfriend's hands grab his shoulders tightly.

 

“Take off your clothes and I'll show you just how much.” But he isn't ready to do it too soon, because one of his hands hurries to close on the one stroking him. He shows Porthos how fast and hard he should go.

 

They share another kiss, scorching hot, sloppy. Tongues are fighting and with each pass on his cock, Aramis feels like he's closer to bliss. Porthos swallows his moans, pulls on his cock to hear his boyfriend make more.

 

“That's enough water,” Aramis decides once he's opened his eyes. Water will already splash everywhere as it is. No need to add more.

 

Porthos was a bit tight in his loose pants and judging by his erection, it's no wonder. Aramis marvels at its size, how ready it is even though it hasn't been touched yet. He stares at it, hungry for it, mind clouded by his own desire. It isn't helped as Porthos turns around to turn off the water, stark naked.

 

Aramis cannot keep his hands to himself, and he puts one on Porthos' ass. It rubs, makes Porthos lean back, close his eyes and drawl a faint “Aramis.” The hand is blazing, in spite of the slow fingers grazing everywhere. The curve of his ass then dipping in between and once Porthos' back is to Aramis' chest, fingers are replaced by a cock, hard and pulsing. Moving.

 

Porthos cries out as Aramis reaches in front of him to stroke his boyfriend's cock. He pulls on the sweaty flesh, thumb brushing the head, smearing pre-come, going for more, playing with his balls. How Aramis ruts behind him, meeting each of his boyfriend's unvoluntary thrust, makes it impossibly steamier in the bathroom.

 

Aramis' mouth is on Porthos' shoulder blade afterwards. On the nape of his neck.

 

“I want to fuck you,” Aramis whispers.

 

Porthos groans and his cock leaks at the words. Aramis throws one arm around the other's stomach, plays there, traces all the abs and the feather touches make Porthos dizzy. All added to Aramis' suggestion, he clenches his eyes shut to stay in control. With each stroke, each thrust, each kiss, Aramis feeds the fire burning in Porthos' soul.

 

There are ungraceful sounds as sticky and sweaty skins rub together and the lack of an actual answer is enough for Aramis. He slows his movements, only to stroke harder, longer. To get a hold on his own cock and give it a few pulls as well.

 

“But first, I want to clean you up.”

 

Then Aramis withdraws completely, steps away from Porthos to go sit in the warm water until it reaches his nipples. Porthos follows, cock painfully hard, dark and hungry eyes set on his boyfriend. He sits down, too, facing Aramis and they both groan at their cocks brushing, trapped together between their two bodies.

 

“Yes to all of the above, by the way,” Porthos remarks.

 

His beard scratches down Aramis' neck, scratches the wet skin. Aramis has thrown his head back, overwhelmed by it all, body boiling in the bath. Porthos' legs close around his waist after some adjustement. He's heavy on him but Aramis doesn't mind.

 

He gropes around for the bottle of shower cream and pours some in the palm of his hand. After, he gets a hold on both their cocks at the same time, cleans them thoroughly, finds the water a great help for increased sensations.

 

Porthos likes it even more and as a result bites down on Aramis' shoulder at the sudden fingers probing his ass, teasing. He soothes the sting by sucking on it, delights in how Aramis squirms and pushes Porthos' head to keep him there, hoping that he will do it again. And he does, when there's a finger inside of him, fast and curling, soon joined by a second.

 

He's thrashing against Aramis' cock, rubbing their chests together. Aramis' back is rammed into the side of the bathtub and water does indeed splash around them. But not enough to muffle the small cries and squees the two of them make. Grunting mouths collide, thirsty. They're panting for air, Porthos relaxing his legs a little, allowing Aramis deeper inside of him until he's the one who has to lean back for support.

 

There's renewed sweat on Porthos' brow, frowned in concentration, focused on his pleasure and on Aramis crawling above him. The same fingers reclaim their abandoned prize as Aramis crowds around his boyfriend. It makes Porthos suffocate with desire, leaves him panting for more.

 

Aramis is moving faster, harder perhaps, and he stares down at how Porthos' cock bounces under the rippling water. It's long and hard, inviting him closer.

 

Porthos' hole clenches a bit around the other's knuckles. Aramis' cock is pulsing as he wraps his fingers around it, strokes himself, revels in his boyfriend finally watching him with eyes full of lust.

 

Aramis is so hot and so erotic and so incredibly sexy that Porthos cannot contain himself. His heart drums in his chest to see his boyfriend fuck him but also pleasuring himself. Porthos' hips jerk up. He spreads his legs more, bends them a bit, lets Aramis shift on his knees to get comfortable.

 

As he does so, Porthos grunts because Aramis has decided to stop fucking him to fondle his balls, grazing lightly and the change in pace is almost his undoing. Porthos leans back, hears bottles topple and scatter on the tiles.

 

“I'm going to come,” Aramis moans, voice husky and sensual. “Because you make the prettiest face when I touch you. You're making me come, Porthos.”

 

“Tell me how,” he gasps out.

 

“I think of your mouth on my cock. Your lips. And they're so fierce and hot.”

 

Aramis pulls harder on his cock, presses against Porthos' hole. Presses inside.

 

“And you're swirling your tongue so fast. So fast because...you know...that's what I like. To be buried...inside of you...to be able to...come in your mouth...”

 

Porthos' arm shoots out of the water, catches Aramis' neck and pulls him forward. He's shuddering, legs unsteady even though he's sitting. He kisses Aramis' dirty mouth, feels the tremors of his orgasm build up because of it.

 

“More,” he manages to rasp out, tugging on a lip. More of everything. Aramis rubs their cocks together.

 

“And then you'll...you'll graze it with your teeth and you'll suck on the tip and you'll...you'll...Ah, Porthos!”

 

His boyfriend has been clutching Aramis' hair and _that_ pain combined with the one he is imagining, it's all too much.

 

His fingers are still inside of Porthos as Aramis surrenders and welcomes his orgasm. Breathing loudly, dropping his forehead on the other's shoulder. He doesn't stop stroking his now softening and sensitive cock against Porthos' hard one. Then he resumes his action, fucks Porthos whose body is warm and tingly. Wet and perfect.

 

“And after I've come in your mouth...,” He's a bit out of breath now and yet he cannot stop talking. “...you'll fuck me so hard. With that big cock of yours. Until you make me scream and beg. You want me to scream and beg, don't you?”

 

He scrapes Porthos' balls fondly, deepens his thrusts inside of him and the picture that Aramis is painting, his ass around Porthos' cock, tight and inviting: it's too much for him, too.

 

Porthos comes with a loud groan, lets Aramis continue to move all the way through his orgasm as he kisses his shoulder.

 

“God, that mouth of yours,” Porthos says in between shaggy breaths. Aramis is all sparkly eyes as he sits properly in the water, throws his legs on each side of his boyfriend and wraps his arms around his neck.

 

There's only heavy breathing for a while, chests rising unevenly. He grins devilishly, plants one resounding kiss on Porthos' mouth.

 

“Next time we'll do it in Spanish. See if that gets you off as much.”

 

Porthos growls. And he isn't certain if it is the last remaints of his orgasm he's feeling, or the beginning of a new one.

 


End file.
